


Exotic Berry

by GoodQuestion



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Comedy, Crossdressing, Dean in Panties, Destiel - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Genderqueer Dean Winchester, Hana-Kimi parody, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, LGBT +1, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, a wee bit of angst, genderqueerness, happy fic, more characters and pairings to be added as I re-work, some internalized homophobia/transphobia/etc, track star
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-25 07:09:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16656568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodQuestion/pseuds/GoodQuestion
Summary: OLD SUMMARY: Dean Winchester is like everyone else, mostly.  When he’s not being Deanna Winchester who moved out of the small town of Lawrence, Kansas to a prestigious boarding school with off-campus housing.  Things are going well for him, until he runs into Castiel Novak.NEW SUMMARY: The same but I upped the ages to college. I still love me some Hana-Kimi. This is a Hana-Kimi parody with Dean in the role of Mizuki and Castiel as Sano.





	1. Raspberry

**Author's Note:**

> Hey ya'll, so I recently (like a month or so ago) got a hit up about Exotic Berry and all that fun junk and I finally have Thanksgiving break so I figured why the fuck not try this again. I figure if I at least publish one chapter we're going to start having a good pace. For those that enjoyed the original high school version, I think I've still got the files around and I'm considering re-publishing that as is for those who hate this new re-write.
> 
> I would like to mention that I am genderqueer myself and it's been I think 5 years since I first wrote it and I found myself cringing at some of the wording and fumbling around that I was doing with it, so re-write it is.
> 
> The name Exotic Berry comes from the fact that I was playing the Old School Playstation A Bugs Life game and I really dug the aesthetic of those damn berries. Clever I know.
> 
> It's been a while since I've re-visited this verse so I'll be adding tags as I explore and go along adjusting stuff.
> 
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hana-Kimi < \- Hana-Kimi
> 
> http://goodquestionharlie.tumblr.com/tagged/Exotic+Berry My tumblr tag for the fic. I'll need to re-draw Deanna/Dean in a uniform.
> 
> Un-betta'd as always, please enjoy.

 

The alarm screeched through the apartment, the lack of furnishing helping it echo louder. Dean rolled over in his bed, twisting the blanket in his legs. Dean pulled the pillow tightly across his ears and waited. Finally the sound faded and Dean slipped into a heavy sleep, one arm hanging off of the mattress, knuckles stroking the floor.

Ten minutes later Dean sprang up from his bed, nearly slamming his face to the floor, heart pounding as something that sounded like a fire alarm vibrated in his ears.

Setting a secondary alarm that got more aggressive as time passed had seemed like a good idea the night before. Dean fumbled, untangling his legs and racing towards the sparse living room to find where he’d hidden the alarm. Finding it, Dean fumbled through a set of math problems that he was required to solve before the shrieking would stop.

The relief he felt at the silence was short lived after the sleep cleared a little from his eyes and he finally saw the time.

“Fuck,” Dean cursed, running back into his bedroom and digging through a haphazardly stacked pile of clothing. He brought the pile to the bathroom, shimming one leg into his panties as he brushed his teeth. With one foot, he hooked and tossed the stockings from the floor into his outstretched palm and spat in the sink. He reached down and ran his fingers along his shaved legs, checking for any spots before sitting down on the toilet to pull on the stockings. One day he’d buy pairs that didn’t tear like wet paper.

Dean shuffled into the kitchen, pulling out two eggs from the fridge, wincing when one of ‘em smacked against the shelf. He cracked them into a tall glass and whisked them with a fork, tossing them into a small pan and leaving it in the kitchen as he dug around for his uniform. ‘A fucking uniform,’ Dean thought to himself, a strange smile on his face. It’s not like he wouldn’t have preferred more freedom, but for his unique situation having one actually worked in his favor.

By the time he’d found his skirt and slipped into it, the air was ripe with the smell of breakfast. Dean struggled to properly adjust his padded bra as he marched back into the kitchen, wincing when he saw that some of the edges had started to burn. Dean glanced at the clock, there was nothing he could do about it now. Two pieces of bread in the toaster later Dean found that he had a few more minutes than expected. He hesitated, eyes glancing between the clock and the tiny stool that was tucked against the kitchen counter.

Better safe than sorry.

Dean slapped the egg in between the pieces of toast, squeezed them flat and wrapped it in a paper towel. He left it on the counter as he ran back to the bathroom and gently picked up his wig from the mannequin head. He smiled as his fingers threaded through the fine strands and arranged it onto his head. Maybe one day he’d let his own hair grow out but for now he enjoyed the versatility.

“All right,” he told himself, gathering his belongs and backpack. “This shit’s gonna be easy.” Before he headed out the door Dean double checked his outfit, nerves making his fingers tremble. He frowned a bit and adjusted a small smudge of eyeliner before glancing through the peephole to make sure the hallway was empty. Dean cracked the door, looking around one more time, before stepping out, locking the door, and quickly jogging down the stairs.

He had to be fast and safe, the world wasn’t exactly the friendliest place.

The person who lived at apartment 302 was Dean Winchester. Which was fine by him, he enjoyed being Dean Winchester and was very proud of it. The thing was he wasn’t limited to _just_ being Dean Winchester, Male, brother of Sam Winchester and son of Mary and John Winchester.

The first time he’d ever put on a skirt had been just for kicks in early middle school. Jo had been complaining about how much she hated the skirts she was being forced to wear. Dean of course hadn’t thought anything of it, claiming that there’s no way it was that restricting. So, they’d switched, and Dean had worn the outfit, spaghetti strap top and all, for the rest of the day. He’d gotten a damn stern talking to by his father, littered with some choice words about how men behaved. He’d reluctantly taken the clothing off, handed them back to Jo. She’d been smug, ready for Dean to tell her exactly how uncomfortable and awkward it was. Instead he’d just shrugged.

Dean now remembered a little fondly how Jo had pouted and called bullshit. To prove her point they’d done it again in a different outfit but this time John had gone and complained to Ellen, Jo’s mom. A less fond memory was of them sitting, chastised, in one of the booths of the Roadhouse as John raged about Jo’s behavior. He was not going to have Jo facilitating any of that ‘sinful queer shit’. Jo wasn’t going to lead Dean on a path to hell.

Dean had taken the comment to heart and Ellen hadn’t talked much to John Winchester after that. Even at the nearly mandatory neighborhood gettogethers the air was always tense. It never stopped Ellen from inviting Dean to come over.

The second time he’d put on women’s clothing had been at Rhonda Hurley’s birthday party. Early 9th grade, when they were just old enough to be left alone for the night while the parents went to bed. Truth or Dare always seemed to have a naturally odd escalation. Dean couldn’t remember a damn reason why he was picked or who the hell had the idea but somehow he’d ended up in soft, pink panties while people cheered. He’d played it off, groaning and moaning about how awful it was and cursing until they let him change his clothes. The game became tamer after that though for Dean it was an eye opener. He was in love with the feeling. It was soft and snug in a way that some of his boxers weren’t. Well, depending on the type and brand.

The feeling hadn’t left his mind since and he found himself idly flipping through some of his mother’s clothing magazines. Mary would laugh and after a while take them back, wondering if he was trying to pick something out for a secret girlfriend. He never had an answer. It was easier to let them assume that then to get into another shouting match with his father. Though, it wasn’t really a match when only one person was screaming.

He’d looked it up on the internet once, or rather tried to, but he hadn’t been particularly successful. Everything he found scared him. He thought of his father and the talk around town from his peers as he read through coldly stated information. There was something about desires, and unhappiness.

Dysphoria and anger and hatred.

It scared him. Was that going to come later? Was this just the start of it? He was happy, well, as happy as he could be with himself. He would just be happier if he could go to the grocery store dressed like Teresa from down the street sometimes.

He’d closed out of the browser more confused than he’d been when he opened it. There wasn’t anything being explained that really fit him. He’d settled in his bed, rolling a dirty baseball between his palms and playing catch with himself.

He watched the ball spin a little in the air before it descended, and with a flick of his wrist sent it flying back up.

Why weren’t there any easy answers?

It terrified him.

He spent a few years miserable, pushing away most of his friends and finding solace in solitude and drowning himself in work. He spent most of his freshman and sophomore year angry and unable to deal.

He’d nearly punched out a window when he popped his first boner for a boy. It had forced to him to evaluate all of his interactions growing up and driven him to sitting in his shower and crying for a bit.

He tried to like girls, he really had, but after a few too many dating failures the answer was clear. It made his spiral worse.

Hope came in the form of Jo, cornering him at the start of the spring semester of Junior year.

Dean remembered with fondness how she’d rammed him up against the locker and demanded he come over to her house later. She was tired of whatever bullshit was going on that he wasn’t talking about. Even Bobby had noticed and mentioned it, and it took a helluva a lot for that man to start mentioning things.

After being worked over for a few days he’d finally stammered out, stomach in anxious knots, that he thought he was gay. Jo had sighed in relief, body nearly collapsing as she relaxed.

_“I thought there was something like… life threatening going on. Oh, thank God.”_

Dean’s first reaction was being fucking pissed, he’d nearly tossed a bottle at the wall.

This thing had been ruining him from the inside out, changing his entire life, and here it was. Just as easy as that. Not a big deal and had only elicited an ‘Oh’. In a way that he was ashamed of now, he’d angrily demanded if he ‘acted gay’ and became immensely defensive of his masculinity. She’d laughed, taking his aggression in stride, and told him that no, and she wasn’t quite sure if there even was something that was clearly gay behavior, outside of having sex with men. Dean asked her what the hell made her the expert. She’d only shrugged and told her that her uncle was gay, and openly so. It had never been a shameful secret in her family, even if rural Kansas was kind of backwards.

It had taken a few more weeks of needling by Jo to explain why he still wore his ‘someone ran over your dog’ expression, dragging a damn rain cloud with him wherever he went. He’d bitten his lip and mumbled out that he found he liked some ‘girly things’.

It took two more days before he’d angrily shouted, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, that he wanted to wear women’s clothing. He’d yelled at Jo, ready to lash out first before she lashed out at him, turning around intent on destroying his room. Instead, Jo had tackled him to the bed and stubbornly held on until his breathing evened out. He flinched when Jo moved, ready for the ridicule. Instead she’d said ‘You want to come over to my house and try on some of mine? I think our hips are still the same size?’

That was the day Dean had decided that Jo was really an angel in disguise, sent down specifically for him.

Right around the same time she’d introduced him to another new obsession, one that would nearly rival his love of feminine clothing.

Jo was a track star, so much so that it was looking like a college scholarship might be in her future. Through it she’d introduced him to Castiel Novak, a track star from Pontiac, Illinois. He’d heard the name tossed around before but hadn’t cared.

Then he’d watched one of the competitions on TV while Jo brought out the nail polish she’d left in her desk drawer to gather dust.

Castiel was _gorgeous._

Every time he moved on the screen it kept your attention. Dean even started going to their school meets, one to support Jo and second to see if it was even better live. It was entertaining, yes, but it was nothing like watching Novak compete.  Dean spent hours looking up information and talking to other people on the team. They all knew who Castiel Novak was. He was the current division champion, usually competing in solo events and busting through records every single time he stepped on the field. Dean thought he was one of the most inspiring people he’d ever seen. Outside of Jo of course.

It seemed like every single time Dean felt himself slipping back into bad habits, depression that even Jo couldn’t help, Novak would bust through another record. It was invigorating. If Novak could keep going then so could he. He couldn’t give up just because there were some challenges in his way. Jo teased him for his interest but that didn’t stop her from joining in when they watched the few televised track meets. Dean would have a pillow pressed under himself, elbows resting on it as he chattered away on obscure facts and information he’d found in magazines. Dean would sigh dreamily as Jo brushed through the strands of the cheap POS wig they’d bought at the Halloween store for him.

His life shifted towards the positive. His grades improved, and although his friends still remained a little scarce he didn’t mind. He had Jo and Novak and a growing acceptance of himself and the secret get togethers at Jo’s.

Time passed and senior year crawled around bringing with it anxiety and stress that not even the new polka dot panties he’d been brave enough to wear under his jeans could ease.

John got worse about his commentary, or maybe Dean had just noticed it more. There was also added stress from colleges. John had mapped out a very clear path for him and the shouting matches that revolved around them were infuriating. Sam of course would have none of it, especially when John turned his shouting towards him. Dean figured that the stress in their household was why even his mother was growing listless and snappy.

A few weeks into the fall semester he’d broken down in Jo’s room, feeling completely crushed by his home life and the increasingly antagonistic environment. At the very least he couldn’t stand to stay in Kansas.

He had no future here.

Of course because it was his damn luck Ellen decided that was the perfect time to knock on the door and wonder what the hell was going on. Dean’s stomach had knotted itself and he’d been two seconds from throwing up. John Winchester’s son didn’t cry, and he sure as hell didn’t cry curled up in his best friends lap.

And he sure as hell wasn’t supposed to be wearing leggings, even if the rest of what he was wearing was masculine enough.

Ellen hadn’t even blinked, she’d simply crouched down next to them and very seriously asked what was wrong.

Dean had broken down crying again, tentatively leaning into the arms gently wrapping around him. It took a damn bit of coaxing from them but he explained his fears, the issues at home, his worry about leaving Sam behind in the environment to fend for himself.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t be who he was here. And he had no fucking idea how to make it work.

Ellen ended up suggesting a private university a few states over, one he’d never heard of before. Even if it had been a well known school there was no way Dean could do it. The furthest he’d ever been from home had been Topeka and hell even that was on a family trip. It might’ve been pathetic to be fearful about but he had enough going on without fucking with being alone. He’d only looked into it after Ellen mentioned that there was understanding staff on campus that she and Bobby knew personally.

He’d left it at just that, a brief internet search until Jo threatened to send love letters in his name to Novak. First thing he did was talk to Sam, who’d gone nuts about it. At the time it had hurt, he sure as hell wouldn’t have wanted Sam that far away from him the enthusiasm was hard to stay mad at. A little bit too much teary eyed ‘proud of you’s’ and a little too close to home of a comment of him being able to get away.

He was bullied into an early admittance application a week later.

Two weeks later he got in. Mary was teary eyed, wishing he would consider something closer, and John was quiet, he almost would’ve wished he’d yelled.

He’d found much more support at Ellen’s, and even the heart attack and a half when Bobby told him that he knew _about ‘the thing’_ , was worth it.

He was leaving.

He was _fucking leaving._

Together they somehow managed to set up a life that had Dean nearly hyperventilating when it had been brought up. Bobby had pulled some strings so that as a freshman he wasn’t required to live on campus housing. He could have his own apartment.

His own apartment meant that he could live exactly how he wanted, with no one else to judge. It wasn’t until Ellen started talking about Pamela that Dean seriously thought about what he would do about campus. How large of a new start he was going to have, how to approach it, and what the hell it would mean. Yeah it was a better place, a newer place, but it was still in the south.

He wanted to be able to go to school as a woman, or at least dressed like one, but he didn’t want to give up everything.

Dean had spent a few weeks arguing with himself, terrified of starting day 1 as rugged as he could be then waltzing in the next day decked out. He’d gone to Jo for advice and while she didn’t quite know how to walk in those shoes, she did help him figure something out. Dresses for school, jeans for work.

Ellen guaranteed that the school papers could be taken care of, Jo had been ecstatic and ready to re-arrange his entire life, and Bobby had even found him a job with his friend Rufus at a garage. Close enough to his apartment but far enough from the school that he wouldn’t have to worry about too much overlap.

There was still a lot to figure out, and a certain danger to what he was doing but the level of freedom he felt when he slapped down the ‘F’ on his application drowned it all out. Ellen, Jo, and Bobby had bought him a nice, quality, expensive wig for his graduation. (Jo had later given him a package that had left him blushing but hey, everyone needs underwear.)

Dean shook his head and scrubbed his hand across his eyebrows. Memory lane was a bitch.

Seeing his mother crying in the rearview mirror as he loaded his stuff into Bobby’s truck had hurt. Even looking at Sam’s beaming face had clenched at his heart, but one look at his father’s harsh features let him know he was doing the right thing. It reminded him that while there were obstacles in his way, social and personal, it was the right thing to do.

Dean rounded the corner along the street with a light jog to make sure he would make it to the bus, nerves thumping loudly but he couldn’t keep a smile off of his face.

He’d spent about five days in this new life of his and it was exhilarating. The only thing that hadn’t changed was what Jo had called his Novak ritual.

If Castiel Novak could keep going so could he.

Sometimes he felt like a friggin’ stalker but everyone had their heroes right? Hell with the confidence boost he got he’d even managed to make his first friend, Lisa Braeden. She was kind and brash and open and inherently good to be around. Well, at least that was the vibe he’d gotten, they’d only known each other for a few days. She’d been at the school office, helping organize the incoming freshman and been especially helpful. Dean figured that she’d noticed that he was about to hit the floor.

Dean was on his way to see her, bolting off of the bus and weaving through the throng on students. Someone elbowed Dean in the hip and as Dean turned around to scowl he barreled into someone else. He pinwheeled his arms trying to stay straight, notebooks clattering to the ground. Dean grit his teeth and stared down at the person lying on the ground, ready to start yelling. His heart stopped and his tongue rolled itself backwards into his throat never to be seen again.

Breathtaking, and quite frustrated blue eyes stared up at him from the ground. Dean’s hand twitched in an itch to reach out and drag him up or even just brush his fingers through his hair to pick out an errant leaf.

He couldn’t do anything but stare.

Dean’s mind babbled, trying to find something to focus on. Would it be too unfeminine if he decided to lean down and yank the boy up? Jo had certainly done it enough times but he was stuck.

Not for the very first time, and certainly not for the last, he thought to himself that gender shit was stupid.

His mouth gaped open and shut softly as Castiel Novak got to his feet, shooting him a glare. “S-sorry,” Dean stammered out, bringing his hand close to his chest. He swallowed, thanking the squeak in his voice. He hadn’t quite gotten the voice training down yet. Uncertainty helped him sound more genuine.

“No, it’s quite all right… Perhaps next time you should look up when you’re sprinting across the campus,” Novak suggested, clearly trying for polite but his tone was frigid. Dean couldn’t exactly fault the guy. Concrete wasn’t exactly the friendliest surface to land your caboose on.

“Yeah, right, my bad,” Dean offered, trying for a grin. He was saved from having to engage in more polite but forced conversation when Lisa came running down the path.

“I saw that fall, did that stick finally get knocked out of your behind?” Lisa teased, looking down at Novak still sitting on the concrete.

Novak’s lip twitched, “Hardly. I’ve been assured it’s quite firmly lodged in there, if anything it was probably shoved in a little deeper.”

Lisa looked up and walked over to Dean. “Deanna! I’ve been looking for you all morning,” she smiled and released him. “I wasn’t sure it was you at first. That’s quite a feat for a first day, knocking our school super star onto his majestic-”

“I’m leaving,” Castiel said with a shake of his head as he stood up, gathering the fallen items from the ground. He separated them and gave Dean his. “I’ve had quite enough of ridicule for this morning. I will see you later Lisa.” He turned to Dean, “And you should make a note to be more careful.”

“I will,” Dean coughed out. They watched him walk down the path. “Is he always this much of a dick?” slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. But hey, he couldn’t actually be expected to be at his best. His mind had thoroughly skidded off the rails at ‘Castiel Novak goes to this university’ and done a hiccup of a ‘wow he’s an ass’ and then jumped straight back into hero worship.

Lisa laughed, “He can be a bit of an acquired flavor, but he’s a good person, I think. He runs track and there was big commotion in the athletics department when that application hit their desk.”

Dean nodded and didn’t bother to add that he was very well aware of Novak’s athletic prowess. He could tell her every record, every meet, every lower level competitions he’d participated in. It was a little disheartening to realize that while he could rattle all of these things off he couldn’t tell you what friggin’ university his idol went to. But hey, maybe that was a nice check mark in the ‘not-a-stalker’ column.

He spent the day in a daze, all plans of an extra successful first day going out the window.

He was so screwed, so royally screwed.

So screwed in fact that Dean half contemplated making a drastic jump out of the window and then when they found his body they could blame _everything_ on a massive mental breakdown. Lisa tried to get him to join her for lunch but he had to get some time to himself. She frowned across the hallway, trying to make her way to him but he simply held up his hand. He winced and mimed rubbing at this belly. She gave an understanding smile as Dean raced towards the campus clinic.

The clinic was blissfully empty as he barreled in, eyes searching out Pamela. Ellen and Bobby had been right, they’d gotten along great and she’d been very understanding of his situation.

“Dean?”

“Castiel Novak goes here,” he blurted out, eyes wide.

Pamela irritatingly enough just chuckled, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs. “Yes, yes he does, for about a year now.”

Dean stared, trying to figure out what to say, his hands raising and lowering at his sides. “You! You know! You _knew!_ ” Dean finally stuttered out, stepping closer. He wasn’t sure what was more distressing, that Jo had blabbed about his crush to Pamela and let him to discover it on his own or that she’d just kept it from him for fun. This had a Jo level prank written all over it.

“Relax, sweet cheeks,” she laughed, “for one, I will say I heard it from a friend, who heard it from a friend, and I didn’t really think it would matter that much. Two, I’m honestly shocked that you _didn’t_ already know. I’ve been informed that you’re quite the expert on our local celebrity. Honestly this is a little more amusing than I thought it would be.”

“You’re the devil aren’t you?” Dean accused, glaring. “You’re an adult professional.”

“Hey now, I’m not that bad. I’m helping you out, aren’t I?” she teased, tone a little gentler.

“I guess,” Dean had to agree, slumping into a chair, legs sliding out and spreading out.

“Hey now, ladies don’t slouch or spread like that,” Pamela teased, winking, “especially in a skirt.”

“Oh can it,” Dean muttered but straightened himself anyway. “Seriously though. I’m screwed.”

“I think you’ll be all right,” Pam tried to offer. “I know you’re freaking out because you just bumped into your crush-”

“In drag!” Dean exclaimed, heart constricting.

Pam rolled her eyes, “Maybe, but this is what you wanted? To go to a college where you could explore your own identity? To be free to be this? Would you really have changed all of your plans if you’d known beforehand that Castiel was attending this school?”

Dean paused for a second and despite the hammering in his chest he knew he probably wouldn’t have changed anything. Probably. Honestly now it just seemed like there was more at stake. He shook his head and tried to do his breathing exercises. “No, I wouldn’t have changed anything. I might think he’s amazing and the sun shines out of his ass but no. This is my life and I need to have a chance to live it my way.”

Pamela nodded. “Good. If you had answered anything else I would’ve sent you home. You can’t treat this like a fling and I do not support changing yourself willy nilly over someone else. Now buck up, I know you’ve got more fire in your belly than that Winchester. You had the balls to pack up all your stuff, move to a new city on your own, and add Deanna to your identity. I think you can walk down the hallway and say hit to him.”

“Yeah,” Dean said taking another deep breath. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m Dean -fucking- Winchester. I can do this. Of course I can do this,” he said as he stood up. “Thanks Pam, I needed the reminder.”

Now that some of the anxiety had eased his stomach loudly reminded him that he’d skipped lunch. There was still an hour before his next set of classes began, there was definitely time for some grub. Things would be fine and even better when he got some food into him.

Of course, as he entered the cafeteria all he saw was Castiel Novak standing next to Lisa at the lunch table. He felt his courage liquefy into his knees and puddle out from his feet.

Damn it.

He was…

so…

screwed.


	2. Green Berry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Locker Rooms & Running

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course as always mention to me if something is wonky. I'm taking the way Dean/Deanna uses pronouns in the way I do. I respond to she/he/they but there are some that I'm just so used to using that I keep using them. I know it's not how other people work but that's how I'm rocking my genderqueerness. Scenes are parodied for the first few chapters of the Manga. Seriously check it out, it's funny.

It turned out that Lisa knowing Castiel didn’t actually change anything in his life.

Dean and Castiel barely even bumped into each other when it came down to it. With how anticlimactic the new few weeks had gone since they’re literal bumping into each other, his massive freak out and phone call to Jo seemed a little excessive. Originally, he’d simply dropped off a text, it wasn’t like he needed someone there 24/7. This entire thing was to prove to himself that he could survive on his own. Besides, he’d dealt with some heavy hitter issues for years without cracking his gourd. Though, apparently all it took was a little bit of sex on legs and Dean was reaching for the phone, needing to blabber to someone. All he could hear was John’s voice in his damn head, telling him to rub some salt in it and move on.

Jo, of course, had freaked out and demanded pictures. (A day later when he’d shamefully snapped one in the cafeteria. He owed Jo.) She’d also requested autographs and other memorabilia before calming down to listen to his panic attack. Here _he_ was, one of the reasons that Dean had made it through some of the tougher years of his adolescence. What was worse was that Castiel was terrifyingly prettier up close. Pretty like smoothly cut granite. There was potential for immense warmth in those eyes but they always had too much of a shadow for Dean to see them as anything but sharp.

So yeah.

He was into a guy who reminded him of sharp cut, sparkly, ass rocks.

Jo had been sympathetic for a little bit as he listed off just how intimidating he was in person before telling him to buck up and not worry about it. She’d also basically told him the same thing that Pamela had. Meeting Castiel shouldn’t change anything about his feelings of self. Which was easier said than done. Because damn it, it wasn’t as easy as “oh well you look kinda different”. He barely had a handle on his own identity.

Still, he tried to take their calming advice to heart. Dean knew he was shit at keeping things straight in his own head.

So business as usual.

“How do you eat so much and never gain a damn pound?” Lisa asked, frowning at the tray of food Dean had brought to the table.

He looked down, confused, and brushed a stray strand of hair back behind his ear. “It’s a reasonably sized meal,” he defended.

“For a mammoth,” someone said behind him.

“Hey Garth,” Dean grumbled through a small mouthful, “and you can shut it. You put away just as much food as I do and I don’t see any extra pounds on you.”

“I guess we’re both just blessed with the right genetics,” Dean responded with an easy smile, reaching over to steal one of Lisa’s cookies.

“Hey now!”

“You were complaining about your weight, I thought it was an invitation,” Dean defended with a laugh.

“Well, you’ll need those genetics anyway,” Lisa muttered going back to her own meal.

“Huh?”

“We’re having our fitness, endurance test thing tomorrow,” Garth said as he stuck a straw into his juice box. “We’re in the same Health class.”

“Fitness what now?”

Lisa rolled her eyes, “They do it all around the same time, I’ve got it in my Physical Ed class. It’s some sort of funding thing, the better we do the more funding the programs get. Well, progress wise.”

“That sounds stupid.”

“You’re the one that picked a health class.”

“Still seems stupid,” Dean mumbled and shoved a rather unattractive bite of chicken fried steak into his mouth. His cheeks puffed out as he tried to chew down the piece. Just as it was starting to break down Castiel walked up, giving him a look. Dean wasn’t even aware someone could look so elegantly grossed out. Blushing furiously, he ducked his head and forced the piece down, feeling it scrape down his throat. He reached for his bottle of milk, chugging it down, feeling a little bit spill down his chin. He barely remembered to use a napkin to wipe his mouth and made sure not to belch before glancing back up.

Even if Castiel probably didn’t even know who he was didn’t mean that Dean should be making bad impressions left and right. So far he’d just managed to come off like a damn moron.

“You need something?” Lisa asked, pushing aside the remnants of her burger.

“Not much. I figured I would come by before I forgot, you borrowed my work book to copy my chemistry notes? I need that later. Would you mind dropping it by the dorms?”

“Yeah sure. You know if you didn’t have such an aversion to technology you could’ve just texted that to me,” Lisa replied, dipping a fry through a tiny puddle of ketchup.

“A cell phone makes me too available, and I’ve always got the line at the dorms.”

“You’re just covering up for the fact that you don’t know how to use the damn thing,” Dean interjected and immediately wanted to put his foot into his mouth. He probably wasn’t that flexible though.

Lisa paused before bursting out in laughter. Dean’s face turned a little red. Damn it.

Castiel chuckled. Dean froze a little. It wasn’t much, maybe more like an amused snort but it totally counted as a laugh in his book. He’d made _Castiel_ laugh.

“Thank you for your input, Miss Deanna,” he replied, staring down at him in amusement. “Very helpful,” he added, nodding to Lisa and turning around with a short wave goodbye.

“I’m an idiot,” Dean muttered as he shoved his food aside and buried his head in his hands.

“I’ve heard stupider things said,” Garth tried to offer, eager to be helpful. It earned him a slap on the arm.

“I think he likes you,” Lisa commented when she finished chewing through her fries. “You’ve got spunk? He likes that. People walk on eggshells around the guy, you know? ‘Cause he’s all serious and proper and a star. Track is like football here.”

“Believe it or not I gathered that,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “And spunk? You could sound surer about that.”

Lisa tossed her napkin across the table at him. “Take the damn compliment. All I’m saying he seems to at least get along with you.”

“So that’s uh, at least a positive?” Dean coughed out, hiding it in a gulp of milk. Lisa stared at him, her own drink paused before her lips. “Look I’m a pretty likable g-person. I think I get along with everybody.”

Lisa hummed and took a small sip. She smiled, “Everybody, right. Well, then you should feel comfortable knowing at least he doesn’t hate you. Which you should be proud of. He’s very prickly.”

Dean snorted, “Thanks for the info.”

“Only here to help.”

Dean nodded and tried not to mull over it too much. It wasn’t exactly friendship, and damn Jo for texting him constantly about pursuing something, but he’d take it. Maybe if he hung around Lisa a little longer, it helped that he really liked her, there’d be another opportunity not to make an ass of himself.

Another chance presented himself a little faster than Dean could’ve expected and almost assuredly before he was prepared for it.

Garth was jogging up to him, looking a little flushed in the late sun. He was struggling to hold a book and was waving a stack of papers in the air.

“You all right there?” Dean asked as he shrugged his backpack further up his shoulder. Garth stopped in front of him, gathering his breath.

“Yeah, fine. A dandy peach! But, I’m gonna miss my bus,” he lifted his head, eyes pleading, “Lisa asked me to,” he stopped to take in another deep breath, “ they’re -Castiel’s. She had an emergency and asked me to do it and then I got lost and then the bus-”

“Garth, slow down.”

“Here,” Garth said, showing the book and papers into Dean’s confused arms.

“What in the world am I doing?”

“His dorm rooms in Clerk Hall, B234! It’s near the back strip!”

“But wait-! Garth, I don’t know! Damn it Garth!” Dean yelled after him as his friend took off, waving with a grateful grin. “I didn’t even say I’d do it,” Dean muttered bitterly. He had better things to do than to play errand boy to the star of his shower fantasies. Damn it. Fuck him and his kind nature.

Dean wandered around for a few minutes, frustrated at his lack of progress. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t walk this way on campus and he had his own damn bus to catch. Friggin’ Garth. Dean finally caved and pulled out his phone to try and look at the campus map.

“Miss Deanna, not your usual route is it?”

Dean dropped his phone to the floor and scowled, he crouched down, glaring. He’d managed to keep from dropping Castiel’s stuff, though at this point it would’ve served him right for sneaking up on him.

“Not that it’s any of your business but it’s not,” Dean shot back, trying to hide how spooked he was. Damn it. He was supposed to be working on that. Problem for another day. “I was on an errand I’ll have you know.”

Castiel looked confused until he focused on the stack of items in Dean’s hands. He made a soft ‘oh’ sound before reaching over to grab them from him. Castiel’s fingers brushed along Dean’s arm and Dean made his knees lock in place so that he wouldn’t jump thirty feet back and take off in a sprint. He did _not_ need to seem any more off his hinges than he already was. Sprinting away would be moronic anyway. Castiel was on the track team. Then again there wasn’t even a guarantee he would follow. Why would Novak follow anyway? He could feel the blush starting to creep onto his cheeks and tried to place it on anger not his dumb ass crush. Which it wasn’t.

Denial was something that he happened to be an expert at. If he could get a degree in it then he could get a masters, maybe write a few books, get rich, and retire in Hawaii.

“Thank you. I though Lisa was…” Castiel started then trailed off, “well, never mind. Thank you nonetheless. You didn’t have to.” Castiel smiled and Dean’s heart nearly sprang out of his mouth to lay a smooch on those gently curved lips.

“Don’t mention it,” Dean grumbled.

They stood there for a few moments a little awkwardly before Cas spoke up again. “Would you like me to walk you to your dorm?”

“Ah no thanks,” Dean said, grunting a little as he re-adjusted his backpack. The last thing he needed was someone following him home and having his entire life unravel. “I live off-campus. A set of apartment things… so, pretty far away.”

Castiel frowned and tucked the books underneath an arm. “Are you sure?” He gestured with his free hand to the quickly sinking sun. When the hell had it gotten so dark? “It’s not safe for a woman to be walking around in the evening by herself?”

Dean squirmed a little, shifting from one leg to the other. He couldn’t help how pleased Castiel’s offered made him. Stupid. Really stupid. Dean cleared his throat. “That’s ok, Castiel. My dad put me through martial arts and,” he dug into his bag and slid out a container from the outside pocket. He wiggled it around, the red cap bright against the container. “I think I’ll be all right. The bus stop is also like, right around the corner. But uh- uhm. Thanks, thank you or whatever,” Dean grumbled needing to get away from the situation immediately. His life wasn’t turning going to turn into some shitty rom-com.

Dean moved back too quickly and his shoe caught on something. He closed his eyes, reading himself for impact but Castiel was just there, arms wrapped around him, body supporting his torso. Dean let Castiel gentle him until he felt he could stand on his own. Damn it.

Castiel smiled at him, lip quirked upwards, “You’ll be all right?”

“The ground can be very deceptive, I’ll give you that,” Dean grunted and turned around to look at what he’d tripped over.

Nothing.

Friggin’ great.

“If you say so,” Castiel chuckled and the guy was way too amused. “Get home Miss Deanna, text someone, Lisa perhaps, to let them know you got home safe.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Sounds like someone’s trying to say texting has its uses Mr. Anti-Technology.”

“Perhaps, then again I’ve never met anyone who’s in danger of being murdered by a sidewalk.”

Dean scowled and opened his mouth for a retort but Castiel was already on his way. “Damn asshole,” Dean grumbled and tried not brush his fingers over where Castiel’s body had touched him. This was getting out of hand. He barely registered the bus drive home, he’d been trying so hard just not to think of anything.

He got home and stripped into a roomy pair of sweats, popping off his bra with a relieved sigh. He may not have had breasts to add to the weight but damn underwires could be a bitch. He rubbed his fingers across the small stripe across his skin, reveling in it a little bit. He could probably find a better, newer bra, he’d filled out in muscle a little since it had been bought, but still there was something pleasing about the mark. Dean yawned and stretched scratching his stomach as he dug around the fridge for dinner. A hot dog with some mustard on it would have to do.

He tied his wig hair into a quick ponytail, not wanting to deal with taking it off quite yet, and settled into a fold out chair he’d bought at Walmart, hot dog in hand and TV playing quietly in front of him. The big furniture would be arriving in a few days but this would have to do. Dean tried to lean back in it and grunted when his hair caught behind his back. He nearly choked on the hot dog when none other than Novak popped up on his TV screen again. He quickly turned the TV off.

Still, he went to bed with a decently full belly and one too many fantasies that left him warmed.

He blamed Castiel for his forgetfulness.

Dean stood with a few dozen other students as they were given a piece of paper with a number on it before they were to go get changed. It didn’t even fully register to him how much shit he was in until he he’d been herded into the locker room. He’d taken a _health_ class for a reason instead of trying for a sports requirement. Things with books and boring charts and lung functions.

This was something that he and Jo had mulled over.

Locker rooms.

Locker rooms meant no sports.

Of course, it probably would’ve have been as bad if he’d brought his own damn clothing but no, he’d been a little busy with Castiel fucking Novak. He watched nervously as other girls flitted around, groaning and sighing and changing into their respective work out clothes. Dean’s only blessing was that there were several girls ducking into the bathroom stalls to change so it wouldn’t be awkward if he did the same.

“Deanna!”

Dean flinched a little and froze. Lisa was walking up to him, waving enthusiastically already dressed in her own shorts and tank.

“Hey Lisa.”

“Why the sour face?” Lisa asked, her palm coming out to grasp Dean’s bicep gently. “Everything ok?”

“Lisa?”

Lisa turned around and gestured towards her friend that Dean hadn’t noticed. “By the way, this is Sarah Blake. She’s a friend and I figured you two might get along.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Sarah said, holding her hand out. Dean nodded and shook it briefly before pulling back.

“I forgot about this thing,” Dean said, turning back to Lisa.

“Well that sucks,” she glanced up and down, “and I supposed you can’t exactly go running around in the uniform.”

Sarah hummed in agreement, “These things rare ridiculously expensive. You know what? Do you need an extra pair of shorts? I think I’ve got a pair.” Dean glanced at the length of the shorts that she was wearing and tried to figure out a kind way to decline. He was worried that everything would show. “I’ll be right back.”

He couldn’t even think of a good explanation to turn down the charity. He supposed there was modesty, plenty of girls had body image issues. Luckily he was saved from any awkward conversation by one of the female coaches entering the locker room. In her hands was a gigantic netted bag of spare clothing. The shorts and shirt he managed to grab weren’t quite the length he’d preferred but they certainly left a lot more to the imagination than what Sarah would’ve come back with. He’d of course still have to say thank you.

He followed them both to the outdoor track, surprised to see a lot of the athletic teams there. There was suspiciously a person missing.

“Hey Lisa,” Dean said as he sat on the ground, gently stretching his legs.

“Yeah?”

“Where’s Castiel?”

Lisa stood up from her stretch and gave him a confused frown. She lifted her hands above her head and leaned from side to side. “Excuse me?”

“Well I mean, it looks like the entire track team is here-”

“Well we are doing this technically at their time, they’ll probably do the test with us.”

“Right, I get that, but what I’m asking is where Castiel is? Isn’t he supposed to be with the team?”

“Oh, I guess you didn’t know. I’d be more surprised if he did show up with them,” Lisa said as she helped Dean up from the ground and they got in line for the 100 meter dash. “He’s probably lounging around somewhere waiting for this to end with my stuff.”

“Wait- hold on- know what?”

“He quit the team.”

“He did what now?” Dean asked, voice squeaking as he was shoved forward.

“Quit,” Lisa said, crouching down a little lower on the ground. She turned her head forward, “You ready?”

Dean didn’t even focus on the run, thinking the faster he got it done the faster he could go stalking around for Novak.

He was pissed and he couldn’t even tell anyone why he was pissed. Hell, he couldn’t even tell himself why he was pissed.

He walked off of the field after the first test, waving Lisa off, telling her he’d be back for the next one. He didn’t find him waiting in uniform like the others. He was fully clothed, resting on one of the benches with what was clearly Lisa’s stuff in his lap.

“You quit!?” Dean said, arms shaking at his sides.

“Quit what exactly?” Castiel asked, looking up at him with a confused frown, a tight line between his eyes.

“Track!”

Cas raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to quit.”

“But that’s- it’s why- what the hell Cas!”

“I’m not sure it’s any of your business, Deanna,” Castiel replied, setting Lisa’s bag aside and scowling.

Before Dean could rally himself to get any coherent rebuttal out Sarah was at his side. It was time for the next run. He let himself be led off, fuming to himself. How dare he? How dare Dean? It wasn’t like this guy owed him his life but damn it. Castiel had been there for him for years, cheering him on, well, not quite, but at least being an inspiration. His piles of clips and magazines and hoard of video clips seemed a little disappointing and meaningless now. Yeah it was his own fault for idolizing, well, an idol but still.

Fucking hell.

Dean put all of his frustration onto the fitness test, something he hadn’t even originally tended to do. He didn’t want to sweat, he didn’t want to make a scene, and he didn’t want to do any of this. He didn’t even think of what it could all mean for him, one misplaced step and too much sweat.

He sprinted and took off, did his jumps and went through the course as instructed to do, only pausing briefly to make sure he wasn’t completely showing. He didn’t question it when one of the coaches asked him to do the track again.

“Holy hell, Deanna.”

Dean lifted his head from where he’d been holding onto his knees and panting. “What?”

Lisa didn’t respond to the tone, probably just taking it as Dean being out of breath. “You really don’t know?”

“I’m getting tired of hearing that,” Dean grumbled, straightening out. He started looking for the closest water fountain.

“Your time.”

“My time what?”

“You’re drawing this out Lis,” Sarah said, her face equally impressed. “Your time on the course. You nailed it. Even people on the athletic teams are nervous, you blew them out of the water.”

“I didn’t intend to,” Dean muttered suddenly aware of all the eyes on him.

He noticed Ash, one of their on and off again table companions talking to a coach and pointing eagerly in his direction.

“Oh no,” Dean mumbled, trying to hide behind the two girls. He re-tied his ponytail and looked for a way to make the quickest exit. This was exactly why he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. He re-adjusted his shirt and faked going to find a water fountain.

Dean had barely made it to the locker rooms before he heard his name being called by several people. “Fuck,” Dean cursed, running towards the edge of the building. The locker room wasn’t safe. Maybe behind the building? Dean took off into another sprint, heart hammering. He really wished he’d had some time for cool down stretches. This was awful. He heard people talking towards the back of the building and changed his direction.

Why the hell was he running anyway? He probably could’ve just said politely no and moved on with his life.

‘Fat chance,’ Dean scoffed. He’d seen enough requirements in high school. They didn’t take no for an answer lightly.

Dean slipped through the gates passed a few bushes and noticed a field house, probably for the equipment. By the time he’d skidded around the building he heard people coming closer. He dove behind a bush and ignored whatever solid mass he’d hit, rolling and trying to stay as far under the bush as he could.

“Cas!”

Dean froze, eyes wide as he watched Castiel, confused sitting at the edge of the bushes. Castiel glanced at him for a second then stood up, flicking something off of the book in his hand.

“Can I help you?” Castiel asked the small crowd that had gathered.

“You seen Winchester? Her scores are off the charts. Half of the teams are considering recruiting her! She’s a natural. We gotta get there before the baseball team does.”

“I think she went that way,” Castiel said, much to Dean’s shock, pointing in the opposite direction over Dean’s head.

Dean kept himself in the bushes as Castiel lowered himself again, leaning against the building, his book loose in his hand. “A natural, huh?”

“Oh shut up,” Dean mumbled, thoroughly humiliated. “Move back would’ya,” Dean grunted, crawling out and picking leaves and twigs out of his hair. He’d managed to get a few scrapes on his arm too.

“Deanna.”

“Huh?”

“About earlier,” Castiel said eyeing one of the scratches on Dean’s arm. “I did not mean to come off so harsh, so…”

Dean shook his head, standing up and wincing at the pain in his knee. “Don’t worry about it,” Dean said starting to limp down the small hill. “Wasn’t my business anyway.”

“No it’s all right, I don’t talk to a lot of people believe it or not,” Castiel offered and Dean just had to laugh. “I’ve been told I come off a little… cold.”

“Really, don’t worry about it,” Dean grumbled, trying to walk a little faster. He really didn’t want to be dealing with his feelings about Castiel right now. He started to walk off.

The next thing he knew he was eating dirt.

…

“No wait, Deanna, please hold on,” Castiel said, reaching for her, yanking a little stronger than necessary on her shirt.

He winced, trying to reach forward to grab her as Deanna turned around, tripping over her own feet, then stumbling onto an open shoe lace and landing on her already bruised knee. Her arm slipped out from under her, elbow scraping against the rough patch of dirt until her head smacked into grass.

“Deanna!” Castiel called out, scrambling forward and leaving his book to fall to the ground. He rolled her over concerned about the way her eyes fluttered.

His eyes kept dancing over her freckles.

“Deanna?”

“Stop yelling,” she spat out, hissing, her hand falling to her knee then coming up bloody.

“Can you stand?” Castiel asked, hooking his arm underneath her armpit to try and lift her up. For a moment it seemed like she was going to fight him, but her legs collapsed underneath her leaving Castiel to be the only thing to support her.

“Deanna?” All he got back were vaguely mumbled words and cursing. He looked around, there was no one around to help. He couldn’t exactly just leave her there. It was his fault anyway. Lisa would _never_ let him hear the end of it if he just dumped her on the closest bench. “Come on, lets try and get going.”

It took a little longer than necessary and honestly Castiel was a little shocked that they didn’t run into a single person on the way to the sports clinic. Then again, they’d probably all wandered off in search of, if the rumors were true, impressively athletic woman in his arms. He managed to get Deanna up the small steps and with only a little grumbling for her in.

“Hello? Is there anyone here?”

“Fucking hell,” Deanna cursed next to him, groaning again.

“Deanna?”

Castiel felt Deanna’s head attempt to lift next to him. He looked for the name tag. “Ah, Doctor Barnes, it’s seemed that we’ve had a little stumble. I didn’t think we’d make it to the main clinic so we came here.”

“Good thing you did too,” Barnes said, coming closer a sharp concerned pout on her lips. She easily took Deanna from him and moved her onto one of the beds. He hovered for a moment until she glanced up. “You can leave now.”

“Oh-I. All right?” Castiel stuttered, a little confused. It was completely normal for someone to hang around to make sure a friend was ok. “I suppose I uh-, I’ll be back later.” He rubbed his hands down his pants where his fingertips tingled. Logically he knew what it was from he just didn’t feel like it was important. He’d known Deanna was attractive since the day she’d knocked him on his ass, breath leaving him in more ways that one.

Even the antagonistic nature of their interactions left him buzzing.

Embarrassingly enough he ended up returning to the clinic, hovering awkwardly. It wasn’t because he was interested, it was because he was the villain in this accident. He’d long returned Lisa’s belongings to her, and even considered going back to his dorm or the library to do something useful but never made it far. He was allowed to go check on her. He could at least knock on the door and see if anyone was still there. If anything, he could explain and apologize seeing as he was the one to pretty much cripple her.

With his mind made up he made his way back to the clinic for the third time.

He rounded the corner and nearly tripped over his own feet.

He’d never seen him on campus before. The boy turned, gorgeous green eyes that reminded him of someone… something… fierce. He watched as he gave Dr. Barnes a hug and a waved as he said thank you. Castiel noted that he had a little bag with what seemed to be a uniform tucked into it. The loose set of sweats and t-shirt puffed around him. Castiel desperately wished a gust of wind would tighten them across his torso.

He scowled and shook his head as the boy wandered off and Doctor Barnes went back into the clinic.

“I’m getting hormonal,” Castiel muttered as he walked up, “I’m too old to be hormonal.”

He knocked on the door and walked in after hearing Dr. Barnes’ soft ‘enter’.

“Oh, Castiel, how are you?”

“Fine, ah, thank you. I was wondering how Deanna was doing since I seem to be responsible for letting her tumble down the hill anyway.”

Dr. Barnes laughed, “With her clumsiness I doubt you had much to do with it. She’s fine. I’ve sent her home for the day. You just missed her.”

“Oh, right. Well, thank you. I’m sorry for the disturbance,” Castiel mumbled and flashed what he hoped was a convincing smile.

“Don’t be a stranger!” Pamela called back.

His heart hammered a little in his chest as he looked in the direction he’d seen the boy walk off on. The green eyes _had_ seemed familiar. The frame could very well be a match. Maybe he’d been confused, mistaking a boy’s silhouette simply due to the clothing. But the short hair?

Castiel shook his head. It wasn’t as if he was the hair police. Still…

 


	3. PoisonBerry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uuuunbeetaad as always. Enjoy.

When Castiel got to his dorm that night he ignored his roommate and crawled into his bunk. He could still hear Uriel grumbling and reached over to tug shut the privacy curtain he’d installed for himself. Uriel continued to grumble but at the very least now the loudest sound was his own breath and the gentle whirring of the standing fan in the corner. He stared at the ceiling and huffed. His parents had insisted on him staying in the dorms with Uriel despite having the option to secure his own personal room. Something about ‘focus’ and ‘good influence’ and ‘important contacts’ and ‘college isn’t for free time don’t you want a good future?’.

Castiel rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm. If he thought about it any harder he’d hear his father’s voice and that would just be the end of any sleep that night. Even worse would be his mother’s annoyingly placating non-discussion, especially after his injury.

Besides, he had more interesting things to spend his time on.

People could very easily resemble each other. He knew for a fact that there were at least two people attending the university that could very easily pass for his own cousins. There were also three-billion celebrity look alike blogs. It wasn’t farfetched that Deanna…

Castiel gripped his hair tightly as the tension in his jaw increased. This was idiotic. Why would it even matter? Why was he even still thinking about it? Deanna was Lisa’s friend, not his, and who gave a shit what was going on with her? Besides, she could easily have a brother who’d come to pick up her stuff. Being a twin wasn’t even a requirement.

That made sense, of course she had a sibling.

Castiel groaned into his arm and rolled over and he ignored Uriel’s sharp commentary on the noises he was making. Uriel probably wouldn’t even know pleasure if it bit him in the ass.

His tumbling thoughts kept him awake for the better part of the night and when he stumbled out of his dorm, he looked it too. If it kept going like this he’d have to invest in one of those make-up sticks that people dab under their eyes to look fresher.

“You look like hell warmed you over, everything okay?”

Castiel glanced up with a frown as Lisa walked over to him, adjusting the bow on her uniform. The pale beige that he usually didn’t mind grated his nerves. Did the sun have to be so damn bright? He fiddled with his own black necktie, making sure it was straight. Had he even looked in the mirror properly that morning? “I’m fine.”

“Sure you are, sunshine,” she said with a delicate raise of her eyebrow, “but I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it before you glare me to death.”

“You are a truly terrible friend,” Castiel grunted, falling into step with her as they headed towards their morning classes.

Blissfully Lisa kept the conversation mostly idle, chattering about how horrible her new math professor was. They stopped at the fork in the path that separated the Biology and Math buildings and Castiel considered asking Lisa about Deanna. He opened his mouth, hand stretching out a little to catch her attention, but lost his chance when the woman in question appeared at the end of the walkway. She waved to both of them and Lisa excused herself, jogging down the stretch of sidewalk and into open arms. Deanna looked at him oddly, head tilted and eyebrow raised as if she’d been expecting him to join too. He simply lifted his hand to his forehead and gave a small two finger salute. She shrugged and turned back to Lisa, dragging her further down the path past some ridiculous decorative bushes.

“What are _you_ smiling about?” Castiel felt a weight on his shoulder as an arm draped around him. He glanced to the side and shrugged the arm off.

“Do you need something?”

Uriel chuckled and moved away, calculating eyes roving across his face. “Just some friendly concern. You didn’t look particularly… friendly this morning.”

“Mind your own business, Uriel.”

Uriel shrugged but didn’t leave, “You’ve been absent a lot lately.”

“Absent? Hardly,” Castiel muttered as he took down the path to their classes.

“I’m not the only one that’s noticed. All of our acquaintances seem to agree that you’re gone more often than not. Rachel is beside herself. She misses you at our table. We’ve been wondering where you’ve gone lurking off to,” Uriel smirked.

Castiel scowled. So what if he’d been spending more time with Lisa. Besides, they probably only noticed because he wasn’t on the track team anymore. They’d never spent much time outside of sports together anyway. “Nowhere important. I’m allowed to do things without you,” Castiel finally ground out, pulling open the door to the classroom a little harder than he’d intended to. Uriel only smiled and spent the rest of the class staring at Cas’ back with an agitating ‘I know things’ look. It didn’t help that once they’d made it to Brit Lit he’d gotten Balthazar to join in.

It made Castiel’s morning frustration rise steadily until he was simmering and boiling, ready to get into a fight. By the time classes ended and dinner time came around he stalked straight past the smirking Uriel and Balthazar, past the Subway, and to Lisa’s table. What the hell where they even doing here? Until recently they’d never spent too much time together. Lunch maybe, breakfast generally, but dinners were taken in their dorms. Then again maybe some of them had moved. Whatever, it wasn’t his business.

“Lisa,” Castiel grumbled, clutching his tray in his hands then found them nearly dropping his tray. Uriel’s prodding had even made him completely forget the little incident with Deanna, that is, until he found himself standing next to her at the table. She looked up and smiled, although there was some confusion in her look. She scooted her chair over as Lisa dragged another. It was a tight fit.

Castiel briefly searched her features, looking for something that would identify him as specifically male. He immediately felt a little ashamed when he stopped his eyes from wandering lower. Regardless of the gender, regardless of what was going on, it was a little more than rude and perverted to try and check out the ‘goods’ without being invited to. He’d taught himself better than that. Honestly, he might have been curious but it seriously was not any of his business what was under the dress unless he was about to be invited under it.

What the hell was wrong with him.

“Damn Lisa, you were right. Cas, you look like shit.”

Castiel almost bristled, he didn’t look _that_ bad. Surely it had improved throughout the day. Instead he found himself giving her a tired smile when usually he would’ve glowered. “I may have gotten an hour or two less sleep than required.”

Deanna laughed and shook her head, strands of her hair slipping over her shoulder. He could only half pay attention. She made some vague comment about the types of activities that might keep him up late at night but honestly she probably could’ve recited the glossary of a history book and he wouldn’t have noticed the difference. Mostly he watched her talk as he ate, scooping up hash browns onto a fork. She’d pinned her bangs back and to the side today. Her light brown hair curled in gentle lock pattern down. Castiel’s eyes wandered back over her uniform and took in the soft white of her stockings and the green patterned trim on the skirt. He shifted in his chair and finished chewing a rather stubborn piece of sausage. He rested his chin on his open palm, swallowed, and focused his gaze. “Deanna, do you have any siblings?”

She paused, blinking owlishly, green eyes beautifully framed by her dark lashes. She scrunched her face together, confused, “Uh, yeah, I do. Why?”

“Simply a curiosity. It seems that perhaps you know more about me than I you. I believe I’m at a disadvantage here.” Castiel counted it as a small victory when Deanna’s cheeks reddened. It brought out the pale pink of her eyeshadow that matched the bracelet on her wrist. She stared accusingly at Lisa who shrugged helplessly.

Castiel couldn’t help but feel vindicated.

His hunch had been right and she was definitely a fan.

“I wouldn’t glare at her. I made the assumption when you became distressed over my quitting the team. You’ve barely been here for a month and somehow, I doubt you would feel so strongly without prior interest. You don’t necessarily seem to be brimming with school spirit.”

“Yeah? So what if I do? Have an interest that is,” she shot back, glaring at him.

“Don’t worry so much,” Castiel said with a smile, finally feeling like he’d gained some of his own footing back. He at least had some read on the situation now, some control of this. “I’m honored, I am. I simply felt that I should know a little more about you. Fair trade and all that.”

“Right, fine, well,” Deanna struggled for words. It seemed as if she’d expected a different reaction; ridicule perhaps? “Yeah, I may have followed some of the events… sometimes…”

“So, your siblings?” Castiel questioned as he went back to cutting up his sausage into manageable slices.

“Oh, yeah,” Deanna chuckled and went back to her own plate of what appeared to be mac and cheese and some type of beef. She scooped a hearty amount onto a spoon and shoveled it into her mouth. “He’s a friggin’ genius. I swear he’s gonna make it far. Honestly a bit of a pain in my ass and maybe a little too nosy for his own good but I figure it’ll take him far.”

Castiel felt his entire body unwind. Everything made sense again. Deanna had a brother. “I’m sure he is, I wouldn’t expect anything different.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked, tongue sliding over her lips to lick up a stray drop of cheese sauce.

“Nothing of importance,” Castiel said with a small smile. He turned to Lisa, “Listen, I’ve got the dorm room to myself for the next few days if you wanted to drop by for a bit. Perhaps relax a little before the semester really picks up.”

Castiel tried not to roll his shoulders to ease the tension out of them. He hadn’t even known he was going to invite them until he’d turned to Lisa and his brain had apparently short circuited.

Maybe he was sick? He had to be with the way Lisa simply stared at him, confusion hidden in the depths of her eyes. Castiel turned around, wiping his already clean mouth with a napkin, “You’re invited as well, Deanna. Lisa knows where I am should you choose to come.”

Castiel stood up, grabbing his trash and tray. Uriel would be gone in the evening, the track team going on a three day training trip for whatever reason, it wasn’t like they had a meet to go to. It seemed frivolous when they had a perfectly good facility on campus but it did leave him blessedly alone in the dorm room. So why the hell had he gone and invited people over when he could’ve enjoyed a little bit of privacy? It had to be because of Deanna. He hadn’t slept the night before and until now had been through a positively shitty day.

This would put the nail in the coffin that was Deanna and he would think no more of it. They would hang out like normal human beings, Castiel would get his fill, and that would be that.

He spent a few minutes cleaning up, shuffling things around and then re-shuffling. It felt nice to be back on a footing he understood. An involuntary smile graced him as he heard knocking at the dorm door, Uriel already having left. Castiel leaned against the edge of the door after he opened it, pleased to see that Deanna had accepted the invitation. Though, if the scowl on Deanna’s face was anything to go by not wholly by her own free will. “You didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to.”

Deanna huffed and glared at him before taking a look around the room. Her eyes swept over the few posters, most of them Uriel’, two desks, the obsessively neat one being his, and the piles of clothes strewn around the floor, also Uriel’s. Castiel had a hamper and so did Uriel, he couldn’t understand why the other boy didn’t bother to use it. He’d stopped fighting it after a while, it wasn’t his job to play maid. Deanna walked over to his desk and he watched as she reached out, fingers twitching a little and trying to reach out for a single picture tucked away under a few loose papers. Castiel reached forward before she could pluck it out, fingers wrapping around her wrist and gently tugging her hand away.

“Some things are private,” Castiel told her, “I invited you to my room, not into my personal life.”

“Wow, okay then,” Deanna said, taking her hand back.

Castiel frowned and glanced at Lisa, her stare clearly told him that he was being an ass.

She’d started it.

“Sorry, I’m just a very private person,” Castiel said as Deanna looked around more, finding one of the beanbag chairs to drop down into it. He glanced over her head at Lisa for approval. She shrugged and smiled. He turned back to Deanna and couldn’t help but crack a smile as she struggled to get comfortable.

“Do you need help?”

“I’m fine,” she shot back, grumbling as she punched the bean bag into place. “You’re the one with the dysfunctional bean bag.”

“It’s technically not his,” Lisa offered from her spot at Uriel’s desk chair. “Most of this junk is actually not his. I think he lacks personality.”

“You didn’t have to come either,” Castiel grumbled.

“Pretty sure you did the inviting,” Deanna remarked looking around, “I guess I actually did figure you wouldn’t have a lot of personal stuff around.”

And just like that Castiel was back to feeling unbalanced. Deanna quickly spotted Uriel’s X-box and didn’t hesitate to turn it on. He stayed in his own desk chair and watched, thankful that his normal personality didn’t require a lot of conversation and that both girls were happy to ignore him.

No, since moving from home, and even as a child he hadn’t kept that many personal items about. He didn’t need that much and he had his focuses. What personal effects he did have were important to him, so it wasn’t that he didn’t have anyway, he just… he was simply a private person. Castiel kept himself from glaring at the back of Deanna’s head. Lisa had said just about the same thing but for whatever reason when Deanna had said it… it bothered him.

What was it about him that made her assume that? Lisa he’d at least known for a year, they were at least some level of friends. Yes, friends. It was okay if she made jokes and tiny comments, but Deanna? She probably only knew him from a few televised events and maybe a magazine or so. Then again, it was his own fault. He’d been the one to stop Deanna’s snooping. He only stopped his circular going nowhere thinking when there was a knock on the door.

“Visiting hours are over!”

Castiel’s eyes flew to the clock. Somehow about two hours had passed while he brooded. He couldn’t even remember speaking a single word to either of them but he must have at some point? “Right, yeah.”

Deanna and Lisa stood up, teasing each other about whatever they had just played, playfully knocking their shoulders into each other. Castiel frowned when he found that he’d wanted to be a part of it. He stood up, intending on opening the door for them. Lisa moved forward to give him a hug and quick peck on the cheek. Deanna gave a shy wave and started to follow Lisa out the door.

Castiel bit his lip and walked forward, grabbing her shoulder gently. “Hey, hold on a second.”

“You need something?” Deanna asked, squinting like he’d grown a few unnecessary limbs. When he didn’t answer, she stepped back out into the hallway and told Lisa she’d be right there. Deanna let the door slide shut, “So?”

Castiel turned around, shoulder’s tense. He wasn’t very good at having friends. Well, friends that he’d made on his own.

There was Uriel who was practically related at this point, Anna who he’d met through his mother’s friend. Balthazar and Rachel he’d met strictly through track and he couldn’t even understand why Zachariah ever hung out with them, especially being a few years older than all of them. He seemed to be fond of Uriel at least. Still, the only thing they all really shared together was competition. He really hadn’t been avoiding them on purpose as Uriel seemed to hint but with his quitting the team there really wasn’t much for them to talk about. He wondered what they’d even done back in the day?

Lisa had come as a real surprise. They’d gone to the same high school but never spoken until he got hurt. They’d been pretty good friends since then, or as good a friends as he could make.

“Here,” Castiel muttered going to his desk. He pulled the photo out and grumpily handed it over.

Deanna took it, her expression softening significantly, “I thought you didn’t-.”

“We’re friends right,” Castiel said. Lisa would be proud even though he couldn’t look at Deanna. “Or at least we may be starting to be, at the very least we’ll have to share Lisa. A picture is a decent place to start.” He kept his arms tense to his body as Deanna examined the picture.

“Who are they?” she asked finally, handing the photo back.

Castiel sighed and held the photo. “That is my mother and father, the girl next to me is Anna, if you know about my track business I’m sure you know about her. Our mothers are very close friends.”

Danna gave a crooked smile, “Nah, sorry. I mainly just focused on your progress on the field. It was impressive ya know.”

“Impressive, right,” Castiel laughed and shook his head. He rolled his tense shoulder’s and shrugged. “This was taken at the last track meet I went to before I quit.”

“So… why did you quit?” Deanna asked, fiddling with the edges of her skirt.

“I got hurt,” Castiel replied. “Nothing too bad,” he added after seeing her worried expression, “just bad enough to bench me for half a year. Not sure when you stopped getting updates but I didn’t do much after that. Stretches here and there but ultimately...” Castiel shrugged.

“Oh.”

They stood awkwardly until an RA came back around, knocking on the door.

“Let me walk you out,” Castiel offered, tucking the photo back under the pile of papers and pulling on his shoes. She didn’t say anything as he led her out and down the few flights of stairs.

“You know,” Deanna said pausing at the doors. She seemed unsure for a moment, shifting from side to side. “I’m sorry that happened. I didn’t know. I probably wouldn’t have been such a dick about you quitting, it’s a damn shame and everything. I would’ve liked to have seen you compete, that’s probably why the extra attitude.”

Castiel ran his hand through his hair, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, you’re the one that’s not doing what you love, or at least, I assume you loved. ‘Night Cas.”

The door swung shut as Castiel stared after her. She paused for a second to get her bearings before starting to wander off towards the bus stops.

He wondered when was the last time someone had been so frank with him.

He continued to think on it well through the weekend. It irritated him that the one statement had him walking past the track field more than once, half wishing that the team would be back so he could watch them practice. His legs were itching by the end of the day and he found himself desperate for an outlet. Before his injury he would’ve gone running, and while in all reality it had healed, it wasn’t something he felt he had the energy to get back into.

He ended up walking a few blocks to one of the student garage’s. If he couldn’t go on a run he could at least go for a drive, maybe a few angry loops around the campus or a quick trip down the closest highway.  Castiel was already feeling better by the time he’d made it off campus and miraculously the radio seemed to never be on commercial.

Of course, because some god was out to get him, this one small reprieve was taken from him. The trustworthy little car started sputtering and hissing at him halfway through his drive, starting to idle and jerk around on the road as he brought it as safely as he could to the side.

“Damn it,” Castiel cursed as he dialed road side assistance but only getting halfway before noticing a sign over the trees. He climbed out of his car and walked a little further, realizing he’d been given a silver lining. He hoped the auto-shop was still open as he jogged up the road, making sure to lock his car first. The shop was surprisingly huge, three separate garages with cars on lifts to the right and an office structure right in front of him.

The doorbell jingled above him as he burst in, “Excuse me, my car seems to have stalled on the road a few blocks over, I was wondering if you guys could help?”

A rather sour looking man didn’t even glance up from behind the counter, “It’ll cost ya $20 for the tow.”

Castiel blinked, surprised. It was a lot cheaper than he’d expected. “Of course, yes, I also don’t seem to know what’s wrong so if you could take a look at it.”

“Let’s get it towed in here first,” the man said standing up and looking him up and down. Castiel felt like he was being inspected as he spotted his nametag. ‘Rufus’. “You said a few blocks over, right?”

“Yes, it’s the Honda stranded on the shoulder on Monroe.”

“All right, well, we’ve got a few mechanics that don’t have anything better to do than sit around with their thumbs up their asses so if it’s nothing bad you should be out of here in to time.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

“No appreciation necessary, kid. I’m making money so I’m happy.”

“Right, of course,” Castiel mumbled, stopping another thank you from popping out of his mouth. He handed over the keys and settled himself in one of the chairs as Rufus called for someone named Dean to prep a space to look at the car when it was brought in.


End file.
